A shitty excuse for a post but funny shit happens on Facebook so deal with it

No wonder everyone in the family thinks I'm weird.

I would rather be playing my game, really

The last few weeks have been so action packed that I haven't nutured my blog, which I beat myself up for every day that I had a spare moment to post but didn't because I am a lazy ass and because I just discovered a cool online game that I am officially addicted to (multiple addictions = less postage). So since I am not allowed to download this super awesome rpg on the work desktop (boss can't appreciate a good game) and since I just completed a good chunk of homework that is due next week, I can finally post.

...only I have no clue as to what I want to talk about. I forgot my notes at home.

Yes, I am one of those. You know, the blogger that only finds inspiration when my laptop isn't handy, like when I'm at the movies or on the toilet, and end up having to write things down before I forget, but when I finally get the time to sit down and write, I end up losing  gasp of all of the pent up motivation and just play video games instead. Yeah, I'm committed.

I can recall one thing that I wrote on the list after receiving a text from Michael about the status of his pants. This did not just happen once, but it is becoming a habit of his to text me the wearabouts of his pants, whether they are being worn or being stripped away. I do not know what to expect next.

"Pants status: Off"

"Pants status: On"

Maybe I should start texting him the status of my hormones, because God knows that is ever changing, and I don't want to text him the status on my pants because there would be nothing to update. I live in Texas. Fuck pants. Plus, any text with the implication of clothing being removed would be torture for a sailor who hasn't got any since last year. Poor guy. Poor me. Poor pants. Poor hormones.

Poor readers for having to endure this post. I'll stop now.

Doesn't Spring Break imply, well, I don't know... a break?

I am going to keep this post vague because I have little to no interest in going into detail about my terribly disappointing Spring Break. Basically, this week has been the shits. Instead of trying to salvage what little time I have left of it, I am trying not to allow myself to fall apart.

One of my best friends is leaving to Michigan in order to jump start her life. The family dog is seriously ill and in response to that my Dad fell apart. Michael is so busy with school we can only manage a real conversation twice a week if we are lucky. My job's pay is less than decent but I love the people there too much to find something closer to home that pays more.

But I shouldn't elaborate. I know you just got back from Cancun or the Bahamas or some other tropical destination with sand in your crack, liquor on your breath, a sweet tan, a rockin' bod and a sweet story to share and really aren't interested in a sob story that will ruin your glow.

I am not bitter at all.

Then again...

All it takes is a Skype conversation and all the bad goes away. You can keep your Spring Break memories. I've got this guy.

What the Internet REALLY thinks of me

Not quite there Jess. Not quite there.

I swear someone slipped something into my cereal this morning.

My mind and memory are running a mile a minute because I feel like I haven't spoken to you guys about what's been going on in my life and that is what a blog is about so technically I'm not fulfilling my duty as a blogger and I should be ashamed that I haven't talked about half of the things that have occurred since last weekend other than getting a computer virus which has totally been taken care of and what on Earth is up with me not talking about the fabulous party I was able to attend because my boss took my shift I need oxygen oh my God.

Yeah, I'm in one of those moods today.

So I am going to cover the minor details first, then we can move onto bigger and better things-- like penis cupcakes, T&A cookies that went horribly yet not so horribly wrong, and a few awards that have been bestowed upon me by a few friends in the blogging community. Firstly, the good news. I have made some real progress on the dialog in my musical and am searching for volunteers to run lines with me soon so I can hear the words out loud and tweak them into perfection. So there is that, and that makes me happy. I hope to be finished by the end of May. When I'm feeling optimistic, I aim for the day I go to see Mike's graduation in California, which is toward the middle of May. A week is a big difference. You can get a lot done in a week. (Or you can PLAN to get a lot done then slack off like I do.)

More good news! I aced my first American Literature Exam and my boyfriend overnighted two dozen tulips to me for Valentine's Day, which I'll get into on a whole separate post. It totally deserves a post of its own.

Now for the shit news. I just found out that I can't cram the rest of my mandatory classes into the remaining semesters before graduation next Spring, so it looks like I'll have to wait an extra semester or two before Michael and I can live together. I'm sure that will make his family very happy. So I suppose in a way it's a good thing. It's like I'm suffering, but sucking up at the same time. I'm losing and they are gaining, so technically I'm gaining...

Always a brighter side to being hated! (Insert dramatic sobbing sounds here)

Now for more mediocre news. I have 49674 writing projects that I'm working on. It is so difficult having so many writing projects that I can't really talk about other than brief updates like "worked on the book today" and "too lazy to finish the short story last night." I wish I could discuss the content of these projects, but a wise friend with expertise in situations of a similar nature advised against it. So, with all of my willpower, I am going to listen, because if I ever hope to be a good writer, I've got to earn to take advice from professionals. Oh come on, it's harder than you think. I'm a stubborn little shit and I get excited about what I write, so I like to share. My blog is a perfect example of this. But even if artistic thievery weren't an issue, I feel like if I gave too much away on here, I'd be jinxing myself in the long run. No one wants that, especially me.

Well okay. I could think of a few people who'd enjoy seeing me fail. Let's just leave that list alone.

Let's get happy again. I have a new link up top, a tab I never imagined getting so soon in the game. "Awards." It's plural guys. That means that there is more than one. That means that more than one person thinks that I'm super. I sch'wear to God I didn't award them to myself. I'm just sch'o popular.

Thanks to TOAR at Thoughts of a Randomista, Andres Rio from Good Music, Bad Math and Christine from The New Adventures of Christine for the collection of awards! This is belated, but no less full of gratitude and a plethora of love.

So apparently, to receive these awards, you must abide by some rules (that I am currently hunting down so bear with me). Christine says that I must tell five things about myself and mix in a few lies. That sounds easy enough. I HEREBY ACCEPT THESE AWARDS BY LYING TO MY READERS. Best condition ever.

1. I met my boyfriend online about five years ago. We've been dating for about nine months now.

2. I collect lawn gnomes.

3. I fractured my elbow and wrist dancing in a Chili's parking lot.

4. My co-worker bumped me into the display case at work and bruised my vaginal bone.

5. I took a bubble bath in a hot tub with my boss and co-workers.

One fact is indeed not a fact. It is a deceiver. Don't believe what it tells you.

Onto choosing three people to pass this lovely .gif onto!

1. @Thundercat: Hands down the easiest pick. I don't need to explain how full of awesome this chick is.

2. @Freeflying: From the start she supported me and stuck with me as I developed as a blogger. Since then, every time I fly to see Mike, I wonder if I'll run into her. One of my favorite bloggers by far.

3. @JRuud: My first friend on 20sb. This girl lights up my life with her attitude. I see rainbows and sunshine after I read her cheery posts.

Dun dun DUN!

...God, I must have way too much sugar in my system. I'll post pictures from the party when I'm less of a spaz and more of a regular functioning human being. Of course it would also make sense to have the camera/memory card on me. Which I don't. I am so unprepared and too hyper to care. I totally just rhymed.

"If you could only see"

For all of the misunderstood lovers.

Happy Valentine's Day my lovelies.

Vloggity Vlog: A challenge in of itself. "Y'know."

"Songs" and ladders

Before I start on my overdue blog topic the challenge calls for, I would first like to express to you how full of fail the other day was. I could not have put myself in a worse situation.

This calls for some background information.

I live near the Devil's Backbone in the Texas hill country. I drive down this winding road to get to school in San Marcos because it is a shorter distance than the highway route. Back roads are awesome. That is until you decide that driving as far as you can go until you pass the one gas station for miles halfway to your destination on very little gas.

Ahem.

So a few days previous to this one, Dad and I were going to haul all of my belongings from San Marcos to Spring Branch. I decided that driving up early was the best bet so I could attempt to organize before Dad showed up after work. The less stress on him is less stress on me in the end. My actions, however, made up for the stress I alleviated by showing up early.

Before I left for San Marcos, I helped Madre clean out the garage for the incoming junk to cram in there. Keep in mind, my bad luck and clumsiness was inherited straight from her. Only with our power combo could a set of stairs leading up to the attic almost kill the both of us. Don't ask.

After a family scavenger hunt for my keys, I left. Only when I was halfway to my destination without a lick of gas did I realize that my purse was not in its usual resting place in the seat beside me. After parking at the pump, I tore my Jeep apart in hopes of finding that one item that determines whether or not a girl is totally screwed. In this case, I was totally screwed. My purse was at home...

...in the garage...

...on the pool table...

...where I left it...

I was without a phone, without money and had to, by some unrealistic chance, get home and retrieve my purse. But even if I had a phone, who could help me? Mom runs an in house daycare. Like she could really leave the kids for twenty minutes. Come on Jess.

I was so panicked that I was shaking when I finally decided to chance it and drive back home. I was like this the whole drive home. Every slow car made my blood pressure rise, every stop sign made my blood pressure rise, every hill and every bit of traffic. I was pretty sure that if I had encountered just one more obstacle than I had previous to arriving home (I totally made it guys), I would have stroked out.

My Mom wasn't surprised when I sped into the driveway in a fluster. "Here," she laughed, handing me my purse. The rest of the day went swimmingly, that is, until I got sick. (This is me explaining why I haven't updated in a while). I'm still sick too. It's pathetic how out of it I am, actually. My funny bone isn't working to its full potential today.

Onto the blog challenge. I will be writing multiple topics throughout the day. I am going to start on an easy one, since I am a cheater and don't give a rat's ass what the challenge says what order I am supposed to go in, I'm diseased and my brain needs to rest.

Day "blah": Put your iPod on shuffle and write ten songs that pop up.

1. DJ Shadow- "Six Days"
2. Fastball- "The Way"
3. Iron and Wine- "Arms of a Thief"
4. The Beatles- "Yesterday"
5. Anna Nalick- "Breathe"
6. Slipknot- "Snuff"
7. Versa Emerge- "The Hider"
8. Fiona Apple- "Across the Universe"
9. Nancy Sinatra- "Bang Bang" Kill Bill Soundtrack
10. Muse- "Hoodoo"

OH! That's a good playlist. I'm impressed and slightly less sickly due to the pure awesomeness of this list of ten. The power of music can do wondrous things.

I have decided to participate in a challenge at 1:30 am! "Woohoo?"

...bum bum BUM!

Alright. I was browsing a fellow blogger's page and came across this challenge. I started MUY to create some sort of constant in my life, but I don't post as much as I think I should. It is going to be a challenge indeed writing everyday for thirty days. But I'm going to be a good sport and test the waters... starting tomorrow because I have a nicotine headache the size of Texas right now.

Plus, If I wimp out in the middle of it, that'd be a follow up epic fail.

Until tomorrow!

Save my soul later, I'm busy

The moment I got up this morning, I started cleaning. I was still a little loopy though, as I didn't give myself enough time to recover from the strange Tim Burton-esque dreams I had last night, so it figures that I wouldn't think before opening the front door when the doorbell chimed over the screaming vacuum. I say screaming because these boys haven't vacuumed since the last time I was here, which was in September. And they didn't do the cleaning. It was me.

So out of breath and without looking through the peephole, I open the door to find two people standing there with Bibles propped up in their hands. They had the biggest smiles on their faces. Their smiles were so big they were almost disturbing, with wicked, maliciousness. Smiles that communicated to me "You must be terribly busy, but we don't care!"

"Oh my God, it's Sunday?" I asked with horror displayed on my face.

"Everyday is the Lord's day!" They were either oblivious or just as sarcastic. They caught onto my game immediately, and I didn't even get to play. I then imagined myself backing away slowly with the same wide-toothed smile as to not offend the species until I was able to close the door without them tearing me about like rabid, mouth foaming, Bible preaching, door knockers.

"You must be busy. We won't keep you too long," one of them said, as if he were being polite. I was covered in sweat, I smelled terrible, and the look on my face must have displayed my disinterest, but I couldn't bring myself to treat them like telemarketers. "We don't want any! And...and screw you!" *CLICK* Or my favorite, "Sure! Let me just find my credit card. Can you hold on for a second?" Set the phone down and just walk away. They will give up after about ten minutes.

Those people don't have souls.

But these people were trying to save mine. So I stood there and dealt with the endless Bible verses for thirty minutes. I'm too damn nice for my own good. The entirety of their lecture consisted of my eye twitching, me playing with the door, and the occasional glance over my shoulder to the half-wiped windows that I needed to tend to. I assumed they would get the message, but they were persistent little buggers.

And now I'm sitting on the couch, typing this out in defeat, covered in pamphlets and notes with verses on them. I don't feel like my soul was saved, I feel like it was sucked out of me. And the windows still aren't done.

Ugh.

Making progress, one step at a time

I have been relentlessly stalking blogs all day long. I still have no clue what I want to write about today.

I have no follow up statement at this time.

( 2 hours later )

So I have a few enterprises that I have in store for the rest of the week. I've been searching for a project other than my book for a while. I've hit a brick wall with that. So being my creative and fabulously productive self, I have decided that if I can't dedicate time to my book, I will devote it to my blog instead.

As you can see if you have been following my posts for more than a month now, my page has changed form almost every week. I just couldn't bring myself to settle on a look. (That's why I don't have any tattoos.) So I've finally settled on this current display until something better travels my way. Lord knows that I can't work my way around Photoshop. I managed to do everything in paint. My mad html/css skills were left behind in high school. But still, it captures what I wanted to express: the thin line between childhood and adulthood. I'm still lingering restlessly in between. I am considered an adult, but no one takes me seriously.

And voila! Epic banner that represents just that.

Onto more or less serious matters, a friend of mine who knows her way around the blog-o-sphere advised me to spread the word about my blog in a variety of ways; ways that will not be shared here as there were far too many ridiculous ones that I won't consider unless desperate. (I refuse to print out my URL on thousands of sheets of paper and spread them across campus. Never will I resort to that.)

Okay, I came up with that one in a moment of doubt. Don't judge me.

I just have this intense yearning to get started. I want to be in that comfortable place as a writer. (Does that place even exist?) Reality tells me that that won't happen until way later. That is considering, of course, that my blog takes off in the direction that I want it to, that I finish that ten novels that I've started, and that I can actually pull off doing this as a professional.

Oh Lord. No wonder no one takes me seriously.

Lucky Number Three

So I returned from attending my cousin's wedding in Waco with a story. As soon as it happened I thought to myself, "Blog-worthy!" Yes, it is a bouquet toss story.

Photo courtesy of Wink Photography

There are some things that you may find to be important background information. Firstly, I attend a lot of weddings. Heaps of them. Sometimes I plan, sometimes I simply attend, sometimes I participate. The only consistent wedding tradition I do take part in is the bouquet toss. Boy do I make those girls work for that symbolic flower arrangement, because even though I caught the last two in a row it still hasn't happened for me. I grow more ruthless with each wedding. I'm a freaking beast with these semi-promising traditions.


So for this wedding I put my game face on and started to limber up. I began with subtle arm stretches then moved on to Rocky style boxing warm ups, just in case someone was ignorant enough to leap in front of me. I hope to one day have a reputation at these events. Everyone around me was amused by my preparations, so I explained that I had caught the bouquet at the last two weddings that I had attended and intended on making it three to heighten the odds. My explanation was cut off as the girls started to walk to the center of the floor. I cracked my neck, focused, then joined gathering behind the bride. 

Wahahahaha! Suckers!

As my cousin was being handed her flowers, a subtle chant began to develop. I looked over to find that my aunt, uncle, and a few others were looking in my direction. As the chant grew louder, I realized that it was for me.

"Alaska, Alaska, ALASKA, ALASKA!"

With my own personal cheerleading squad as my backbone, I caught the damn thing, even after my Dad leaped in for a last minute interception. It was too easy, and I was amused by my Dad's distaste in my participation. My cousin may as well had just handed me the bouquet and dismissed the other girls to their seats. I bowed as the applause erupted, then walked triumphantly back to my seat. "Why were you all chanting Alaska?" I asked. My aunt smiled. "Because I envy you! If you catch the bouquet, that means that you are next to be married. If you get hitched in Alaska, that gives me an excuse to go!" For the first time, I felt like my relationship was being encouraged. That made my night.

Later on, the bride approached me and said, "I just want to let you know that my lucky number is three. So if this is your third bouquet in a row, then maybe it will be lucky for you too!" As my Dad brooded behind me at the prospect of me being the next in line to get hitched, everyone else nudged me playfully and laughed. Perhaps it was because my aunt and uncle had it out for my Dad, as their daughter was already one step ahead of me. May as well put a little fear in the man. But I was on cloud nine with the thought.